Mirror
by Gaerwn
Summary: The money's gone and the cartel isn't exactly happy about that. When Amber and Grace are used as leverage against him, Danny will do whatever is necessary to end this thing here and now. Post 5.04; teamfic.
1. Chapter 1

**Mirror**

"_He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster."  
>Friedrich Neitzsche<em>

* * *

><p>It had been a very long day. The sun was sinking and the rain that had been threatening all day was starting in earnest now. During the day, the air had been heavy and oppressive with grey drizzling fog; it was almost a relief now that the clouds had become heavy with rain, letting loose their bounty on the sea and mountains below. The street was quiet and even the rain seemed hushed, though it was starting to fall harder. The wind picked up and the rain danced in eddies and swirls, soaking pavement and lawn alike. Streets had emptied quickly, almost as quickly as night had fallen. As gentle as the rain and wind seemed now, there was a heaviness in the storm that spoke to a lashing during the night, a maelstrom before the sun rose again the next day.<p>

Headlights cut through the darkness, the light catching off newly-formed puddles and streamers of rain alike as the big, black car navigated the corner. With a low, wide stance and deep-set lights, the Camaro itself seemed aggressive, ready to take on the whatever the road threw at it, whether it be rain or shine or simply bad drivers. Certainly capable of high speeds and cornering on a dime, the pace the driver set was almost sedate and the engine wasn't heard over the increasing sounds of rain. It pulled into a short drive near a corner and came to a gentle stop underneath a carport next to a modest, white home.

For a long moment, after the engine and headlights were turned off, the only sound was the pinging of the rain against the roof of the carport. Danny Williams sat in the driver's seat, blearily eyeing his front door out of the water-streaked window. When he had told his partner that all he wanted to do was go home and shower, dodging raindrops from his car to his door was the very last thing he'd had in mind. (_"It's just rain, Danny" _he heard in that oh-so helpful sarcastic tone to go with that oh-so helpful _I-cannot-believe-you're-actually-complaining-about-this _expression.) With a soft groan, Danny ran his hands over his face and back through his (still-wet, thanks very much) hair.

Definitely a long day but, overall, productive. Two days before, a couple had been found dead in their home and, for once, the case had pretty much been open and shut. The suspect had been hauled in with a minimum of fuss, which had actually surprised all of them, his violent history considered. All five members of the task force had been geared up and ready to kick some ass and take some names simply because everyone knew that bullets were going to fly on this one. Even after the suspect was in custody, they had all been wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It wasn't as if it was an easy case; of course not. Long hours of tracking down seemingly endless leads just to find their guy had left them all with too little sleep and far too much over-greasy food over the past couple days. Danny had subsisted on malasadas alone for some thirty-six hours now and even he was starting to feel the sugar crash. (Grover had made some snide remarks about Danny's ability to drive home before in inevitable crash and, honestly, Danny wasn't quite sure he wasn't wrong.) With a sigh born of simple exhaustion, Danny opened the car door and, sheltered by the carport from all but raindrops born upon the breeze, he looked out on the street. Dim red taillights turned a corner and disappeared from his view. (_Mustang, maybe_, Danny's tired mind supplied, absently noting the shape of the lights. Always attentive to detail, he never really minded noting such things. It was just a part of who he was.)

He turned up the walk, ducking against the rain. As he opened the door, he ran a hand through his hair, snorting at the water that dripped from his hand and down his neck. Grace was staying at a friend's home overnight; her friend's parents were more than willing to step in sometimes on short notice when Danny's cases kept him away for long hours. He would pick her up in the morning and then take her out to lunch as apology. Without even looking at anything, Danny scrubbed his hand over his eyes, sighed, and thought longingly of a shower, a beer, and a bed – and not necessarily in that order.

He flipped on the lights and the living room was suddenly awash in bright, artificial light – as was the old, rusted barrel tied to a handtruck sitting in the middle of his living room. The coffee table had been shoved to the side to make room. Even as his breath caught in his throat, Danny's hand drifted to the weapon on his hip. He drew it and quietly shut the door with nary a click. (The noise coming in and the light would have alerted anyone he was here, but old habits die hard.) Determinedly putting the barrel out of his mind, he started forward, weapon at the ready.

With one light on, the corners of the room were dim, and rooms beyond dark. He could hear rain lashing the windows as the storm picked up. There was a rattling from the kitchen: soft and arrhythmic, it took him a moment to peg it as the blinds clattering lightly in the wind at an open window. He turned the corner, staying close to the wall, and hit the kitchen light. The muzzle of his gun traveling back and forth, looking for and failing to find a target. On the tiled floor, scuffs of mud stood out starkly.

He'd left a clean floor.

Taking one hand off the gun, Danny pulled out his phone. He glanced down at it once every few seconds as he pulled up his contacts. Phone to his ear, he held his breath as it rang. It was picked up as he elbowed the light in the hallway to life.

"_Did you forget something?"_

Trust Steve McGarrett to immediately think Danny wasn't quite firing on all cylinders. "Shut up," he whispered harshly. "Just get here."

"_Here where?" _Danny could hear faint rustling in the background; probably Steve clipping his holster and badge to his belt. _"What's wrong?"_

He kept his voice low when he answered. "Someone's been in my place. Might still be here." But that was looking more and more unlikely. Danny passed the threshold into Grace's bedroom, frowning at even needing to clear her room.

He heard Steve's indrawn breath. _"You want HPD?" _

Danny shook his head, mouth pressed into a thin line but glad that Steve was letting him have the lead on this one. He spun slowly in a circle, then carefully pushed Grace's closet door open. "Don't raise a fuss but I want CSU here."

"_Was anything taken?"_

Danny left Grace's room, making his way to the master bedroom, turning on lights along the way. Before he was done, every light in the house would be on and burning brightly. He shook his head at Steve's question, suddenly understanding exactly why McGarrett was still on the phone with him. He'd be doing the same thing, wanting to listen in while his partner cleared an unexpected crime scene and ready to raise an alarm at the first sign of trouble. "No," he said. "Not that I've seen." He used the barrel of the gun to push the shower curtain aside. "They left something, though." At that, his harsh whisper became a little rougher, breaking.

"_Danny?"_ In the background, Danny heard the truck door closing and the engine turning over.

"Just get here. I've almost cleared the house." Danny crept out of the master bedroom and bath and slowly pushed the hall bath door open. When he flipped on the light, every light was now on and the house was still silent. Aside from mud in the kitchen and that damnable barrel, there was nothing different. Danny sighed and moved to the kitchen, still holding his gun but it was down at his side. "Open window in the kitchen but that's all I see so far."

Holding his gun at the ready again, Danny noted Steve's hum of acknowledgment as he opened the back door and flicked on the porch light. He was met by nothing but rain and wind.

"_Anything else?"_

Danny grunted as he closed the door and turned back into the house. He stopped short at the entrance to the living room, unwilling to face a memory given form sitting not two feet in front of the couch. "There's no one here."

"_Good to know." _Steve's voice echoed with relief. _"What was left? Did you see anything else?"_

Danny palmed his forehead, sighing and rubbing away the beginning of a headache. "I saw a Mustang on the road just before I came in but that could be anyone. I don't know how long this has been here."

"_How long what has been there?"_

The detective sighed; Steve's tone had taken on an edge of impatience at Danny's continued avoidance of the question. "There's a... uhm." His expression tightened. "There's a barrel in my living room."

Steve's answer came after a long moment of weighted silence. _"A barrel."_

"Yeah. A barrel." Danny's hand came up in an abortive gesture toward the barrel, though Steve obviously couldn't see it. "It's old and it's rusty and maybe let's just not go there right now, okay? Okay."

"_Danny."_

"Don't 'Danny' me. Where are you?"

"_Ten minutes out." _

Danny pulled the phone from his ear and gave it an incredulous look before answering. "How fast are you driving?" A pause, and then, as he put the phone back to his ear: "Never mind. Don't answer. I can picture it."

"_And you're sure the house is clear?"_

Also just like Steve to ignore Danny's question. "Yes, Commander." _Yes, Mother._ "I know how to do my job."

Another moment of silence. _"Danny."_

"I know. I know." Danny put his back to a wall; from here he could see both the kitchen's open window and the closed, unlocked front door. "I get it."

"_If this is a-"_

"Steve." Danny's tone brooked no argument (though Steve probably would anyone.) "I get it."

"_I don't think-"_

"Oh for the love of God, Steven, I get it." Despite himself, Danny's voice was rising. "I get it, okay. I. Get. It. There's a reason I cleared the house. There's a reason I called you. There's a reason I want a crime scene unit here. Get it through your damned thick skull already."

Another pause. _"All right. You get it." _Steve was quiet for another moment. _"But I'm staying on the phone with you until I get there."_

"You are like a mother SEAL hen."

"_That doesn't make sense." _

"Only to you." Danny ran a hand through his hair again. "Look, get off the phone so I can call HPD. You call the rest of the team because God knows I don't want anyone else on this."

"_I'm not-"_

"Yes, you are," Danny interrupted. "Nothing's going to happen in the, what, six minutes until you come busting down my front door. I'm fine and we're just wasting time."

"_You're calling HPD right away." _

"You really are a mother hen. Yes, I won't be out of contact for thirty seconds." Before Steve could respond, Danny disconnected the call – and just as quickly dialed dispatch at HPD.

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><p>Steve had taken over the scene and it was with some relief that Danny let him. It wasn't as if a home break-in was far above his expertise; rather it was the opposite. Danny knew full well how to handle a scene but when it was discovered that there actually was a body stuffed into that damnable barrel, he'd taken himself to the kitchen and not come out unless directly asked to move. Crime scene techs had worked around him - for the most part, an immovable object with arms crossed tightly over his chest, Danny stayed out of their way and they stayed out of his. One call from Steve had Chin and Lou canvassing and patrolling the area while Kono traversed Danny's small backyard, looking for anything that could point in the direction of the trespassers.<p>

Dim light filtered through the blinds in the kitchen and Danny nearly started on the realization that hours had passed and all of Five-0 had another sleepless night under their belts. Perfect. Just what they needed. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. Someone moved across the light and then settled against the counter next to him with a sigh.

"You good?" Steve asked, sharp-eyed gaze catching Kono on the other side of the window, standing stock-still with one hand shielding her eyes from the rain and the other fisted on her hip. Frustration was etched into every line of her pose.

Danny dropped his hands. "I promised Grace breakfast before school."

Steve frowned at the obvious avoidance of the question. "Then go pick her up, get that breakfast you promised her, and meet us all back at the office. This place is as clear as it's getting and there's not much left that you or I can do."

"You heard from Lou and Chin?"

"They didn't see anything and no one they've talked to remembers anything either. Chin wants to get his hands on traffic cams but..."

Danny picked up on the thought. "The nearest one is three blocks away. It may not do much good."

Steve shrugged. "They may have driven past one."

"Without a time frame on it, it'll be impossible."

Rubbing his face with his hands, Steve grunted in agreement. "Yeah, it's a long shot but until CSU comes up with something, it's about all we've got and I don't want to wait around."

"I hear you." Danny rolled his neck, carefully working out kinks and aches that had settled in over the last several hours. "I'm gonna set up a couple things. Grace can't stay here."

"I've room."

"That, I know, but you're not following me." Danny nudged Steve's shoulder, then nodded toward Kono coming in from the backyard when he had the commander's attention.

"Sorry," was all she said as she approached. She propped her hop up against the kitchen island across from Danny. "I've been back and forth over your yard and your neighbors' yards and still nothing."

Danny waggled his fingers. "Rain."

She snorted. "Yeah, it's not helping, as hard as it's been coming down." She crossed her arms, unwilling to leave just yet, and let silence settle over the three of them for a long moment.

"You were saying?" Steve broke the silence.

Danny nodded. "I'm gonna get a couple hotel rooms."

"You don't need-"

"Not following," Danny interrupted - and then waited for the inevitable flash of understanding.

After a moment, Steve grinned wolfishly. "You want one in my name?"

"Pick a place and don't try to hide it too well." Danny said. "I'll use Stan's name for one at the Hilton. I might drive by there, too. Make sure I'm seen."

"You have a go bag at the office?" Steve asked.

Danny's expression turned wry. "I work for you."

"I'll pick it up," Kono offered. "I can drop it by Steve's later. What about Grace?"

Danny shrugged one shoulder. "We're here, aren't we? Make like it's evidence and throw a bag of clothes in someone's trunk."

"They'll be expecting you to bug out," Steve pointed out. For her part, Kono just looked more and more troubled as the conversation delved deeper into Danny's plans.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, I know. So I'm not going to make to too difficult for them."

"Danny-"

He cut Kono off with a wave of his hand - not unkind, but it was impatient. "I'm making sure Grace is safe and then this ends." His voice was hard, gaze predatory.

"We."

Danny blinked at Kono, then looked up at Steve, who nodded along with her assertion.

"We," she repeated. "We make sure Grace is safe and then we end it." She held out her right hand, as if to seal the deal with a handshake. For a long moment, Danny only looked at her before he shook his head and took her hand.

"Deal," he said. Kono squeezed his fingers before pulling hand away. Danny wondered if she knew she rested her fingers lightly on the grip of her weapon. For all intents and purposes, Kono looked like someone ready for action - and she might not be far off the mark.

"Go get Grace," Steve said. "Do your normal thing, Danny. Try not to alarm her."

Danny gave him a pretty good approximation of Steve's own aneurysm face. "Yes, Commander." There was that tone again; the one that told Steve all he needed to know about what Danny thought of that particular order. He pushed off the counter and lightly clapped both Steve's and Kono's shoulders on his way out. "I'll bring breakfast after I've dropped Grace at school. One of you have HPD step up patrols around Sacred Heart."

"Will do," Steve affirmed as Kono started digging for a trash bag under the sink to stash a few changes of Grace's clothes into.

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><p>Breakfast with Grace had been a solemn affair. Danny's general dark mood had spilled over onto Grace and she'd become a little withdrawn as the meal progressed. Danny tried – oh he had tried so very hard – to raise her spirits but that damnable barrel and everything it brought with it weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He'd tried very hard not to alarm his daughter but it had been inevitable in the moment that he asked her to be careful today. Both Danny and Rachel were perceptive to a fault and Grace followed in her parents' footsteps in that. With a shake of his head and a bone-crushing hug when he dropped her at school, Danny simply told her that he was missing uncle Matt extra that day. Grace's tight hug nearly chased away all the demons of the day and then she was bounding up the school's stone steps.<p>

By the time he'd returned to the office, tension aches had settled in his neck and shoulders. Steve's office was dark and a word from Kono let him know that Steve and Lou were personally seeing to stepped up patrols in certain areas. Danny nodded and dropped the food he'd grabbed – pastries, breakfast burritos, and a carafe of coffee – onto a side table in the bullpen. Kono caught up with him there, pouring herself a half-cup of coffee as she nodded toward his office.

"Chin and I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Danny looked up and saw Chin already waiting, sitting tensely straight in one of the chairs in Danny's office and reading something on a tablet. "That's nice and formal."

Kono downed her coffee with a grimace. "I know it's tough, Danny. I do. But-"

"-but you both need to know what you're going after here. I know." Danny led the way to his office. "Come on. We'll talk." Kono preceded him inside the room and went to stand next to Chin's chair while Danny stayed near the door.

Chin looked up and set the tablet on the edge of desk. "Hey Danny." There was an edge in his voice, nearly hidden by the genuine sympathy there.

Danny closed the door behind him and tried very hard to approach this as just another case, just another session of gathering and sharing information. This team was damn good at that. Just another case. That's it. "Hey." He caught sight of Kono, arms crossed tightly over her chest and expression troubled. That didn't help when he was trying to keep this all in perspective. She glanced at Chin and Danny followed her gaze to see Chin looking even more deeply troubled. Ah, that was a great sign, too.

Chin sighed. "What's this actually about?"

Danny tensed immediately. All Chin and Kono knew about what had happened in Colombia was whatever Steve had told them and Danny was fairly sure that wasn't much more than that they hadn't come home with Matty because Matty was dead.

Chin continued talking. It wasn't quite the tone he used with suspects but it was pretty damned close and Danny couldn't exactly fault him for it. "Is this about Reyes or is it about the money?"

Danny worried his lower lip. "It might be money." In fact, he was pretty sure that eighteen and a half million dollars was going to come back and bite him in the ass. This likely came down to greed, rather than revenge for Reyes.

"Where's the money, Danny?"

Danny grimaced and rubbed his shoulder, idly wondering if the ache there was ever going to let up in lieu of thinking about how his answer might irreparably damage a good friendship. Chin had gone above and beyond, risking career and even freedom, to help Danny scrape together the money he needed to set off on his (doomed from the start) mission to save Matty. All Danny could do in return was give him absolutely nothing. "I don't know." He said it quietly but he held Chin's gaze.

A storm passed through Chin's expression before understanding blossomed in his eyes. "What happened in Colombia?"

Danny's lips pressed together into a thin line. He had never said a word about it, not to any of the team; upon arriving in Hawaii, he had made arrangements to leave for New Jersey almost immediately. Chin and Kono both had dropped everything to at least see him off at the airport - he could never forget the way Kono had hugged him tightly and without reservation or the way Chin had cupped the back of his neck and sent him on his way with a few whispered words of encouragement - but he hadn't ever just told them what had happened. As far as he knew, Steve had kept his mouth shut about the whole affair, which was only confirmed on Chin's question. To Chin's right, Kono stood quietly with her arms crossed and expression bitterly mournful.

"Matty was dead before we ever got there," Danny said, voice a little too level.

Kono nodded. "Steve said that much. That even before Reyes was in Hawaii..." She trailed off.

"Yeah." Danny sighed, rubbed his shoulder again. "Yeah." Uncertain where to even begin, he sighed again.

"Danny..."

He waved Chin's attempt at conversation off. "I killed Reyes." He took a breath and, upon looking into both Chin's and Kono's faces, saw no condemnation. It bolstered him, gave him enough strength to finish telling the tale. "We'd given him the money and I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to let us leave Colombia alive. Steve and I..." He trailed off, hands gesturing vaguely and both Kono and Chin picked up on the attempted explanation.

"So you fought them off and, in the process, Reyes was killed."

Danny looked at Kono and gave her a half-shrug. "Something like that." He caught Chin giving him a narrow-eyed look; he ignored it. Whatever he had intended to say next was cut off as the door behind him opened. Danny glanced over his shoulder, then moved aside so that Steve and Grover could join them in the office.

"This has a somber air," Lou said and carefully closed the door behind him.

Steve crossed to Danny's desk and propped his hip against it, narrow-eyed gaze taking in the demeanor of the room. "You telling 'em?"

"Yeah." Danny's voice held a forced lightness. "Got up to the part I don't remember all that well."

"Right." Steve scratched the side of his nose with one finger.

Danny gave him all of about three seconds to pick up the story and, when he didn't, decided another prod was necessary. "Since the money seems to, once again, be the root of all this, we were trying to figure out where it went off to."

Steve ran his hand over his mouth and blew a hefty sigh. "Yeah. That's... that's actually a good question." He dropped his hand. "I got you outta there."

At that, Danny nodded. "I do remember that part, thanks. I wasn't swooning."

Steve gave him a Face before turning his attention back to the others. "We had to get off the streets. I got us secure, made a few phone calls, and when I went back to clean up a bit, the money was gone."

"So it's anywhere with anyone."

Steve glanced at Lou and nodded. "With how things went down, we needed out and out fast."

Danny winced, which drew all attention onto him. Steve stood up straight as Danny rounded the corner of his desk and dropped into the chair. "You didn't tell them," Steve said.

"They didn't need to know."

Steve leaned over the desk, hands planted on the surface. "It's pertinent now."

It took everything Danny had to simply look mildly back at Steve. "Quit looking at me like I'm a suspect."

McGarrett snorted, but straightened. It was Grover who broke the dark silence that settled upon all of them. "You gonna tell us or make us start guessing? Because I got a few suppositions up my sleeve and I'm thinking some of them aren't too far off base."

"I killed Reyes." Danny had said it once before but there was a weight in these words that spoke of a different meaning. "After everything was done. He was unarmed." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk and refused to look away when all gazes fell on him. Kono and Grover both just looked sad and troubled. Chin's gaze held a sort of bitter understanding.

"I covered for him," Steve said. "That's when the money was taken. I was making sure no one could connect us to it."

Silence fell. This time, it was Kono who broke it. "So, as far as whoever Reyes was working for is concerned, you guys marched in, killed Reyes, and took millions."

Steve rubbed his face again while Danny tapped his fingers against the desk. "Yeah," Steve said. "Looks like."

Lou blew air through this teeth. "Reyes wasn't top dog."

Steve shook his head. "He was an accountant."

"With a gun," Lou pointed out, "and a lot of hired help."

"And backing from someone higher up," Chin said softly. "This isn't about Reyes so much as it's about the money. The powers that be don't care where Reyes ends up but they do care what happens to eighteen and a half million dollars."

"Which we managed to lose in a basement in Colombia." Danny ran his hands over his hair. "I'm sorry."

Chin waved the apology away while Steve muttered something about it being his fault too, but Kono perched herself on the edge of Danny's desk, hip next to his phone. He looked up at her, blinking in consternation when her hand dropped on his shoulder. "We can figure out who to blame later," she said, her tone all no-nonsense.

"She's right," Lou said. "We put this thing to bed first. Have we heard from CSU yet?"

Kono shook her head. "Not yet. I'll drop by and see what Charlie has to say."

"I'll check with Max." Chin was already pulling out his phone. "See if there's anything we can use from that body."

Lou opened the door. "I'll take HPD. See if Lukela can dig up anything on traffic cams or something in the neighborhood. Somebody saw something somewhere. We just have to dig it up. You said you saw a dark-colored Mustang that night, right?"

Danny nodded. "The barrel and handtruck couldn't have fit in a Mustang, though."

"It's a lead." Lou shrugged. "Could have been surveillance. Could have been someone out who saw something."

Kono patted Danny's shoulder again, then stood to follow Chin and Lou as they left the office. "Constant contact," Steve called after them. "Whether you find something or not, you call me."

Kono's "sure thing, Boss" rang out clear.

Steve leaned over and pushed Danny's phone into his partner's hand. "You are going to call Sacred Heart and check on Grace."

Danny blinked up at him. "I... " He trailed off, then blew air through his teeth. "Yeah, okay." Truthfully, sending Grace off to school that morning hadn't been easy and as long as Steve was going to give him checking-on-his-daughter busy work, he'd take it.

"Take a breath, Danny." Steve pulled out his own cell and started thumbing through contacts. "We'll get this."

"I know." There was a depth of conviction in Danny's tone that had Steve pausing for just a moment. He nodded once, then tapped the screen of his phone. "Who are you calling?" Danny asked.

"Amber." Steve didn't even look up - or look bothered that he had Danny's girlfriend's number programmed into his phone.

Danny stared at him. "Amber. How?"

He still didn't look up. "She gave me her number after that bomb went off and you guys went to Maui."

On Danny's line, the phone at Sacred Heart began to ring. He didn't look away from Steve - who still wasn't looking at him. "You were checking up on me."

"Yep." Steve put the phone to his ear and walked out of the office without another word.

"Unbelievable," Danny muttered as he waited for the phone to pick up.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: I know it's not Crippled, but it's a sudden fit of inspiration. :) Please let me know what you think. This one, aside from some minor editing in later chapters, is a done deal.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Mirror**

Chapter Two

"_It was easier to be brave when someone needed your protection." - Robert Jordan_

Commander McGarrett had thoroughly unnerved Amber, which meant she had begged off for an early lunch hour, citing a headache and general malaise that absolutely needed some caffeine and food. In truth, what she needed was a perhaps a few minutes by herself - or at least a few minutes on some beach somewhere, watching the waves break and roll until her mind quieted. It had been an unexpected moment of joy she'd found in Hawaii, when she discovered that simply watching and hearing the breakers roll against the shore eased a good many anxieties and heartaches. Her first stop had, indeed, been for coffee - she hadn't been kidding about the tension headache settling behind her right eye. It was as much for comfort as for the caffeine. Back in New York, she'd rarely gone a day without a nice hot cup and she couldn't shake the habit even here, though sometimes she had settled for iced coffee. Today, though, it was all about comfort and that was hot coffee, no sugar, and a touch of just plain cream.

She turned onto a busy street; Ala Moana Beach Park actually wasn't too far away from both her coffee stop and her workplace and, while it was usually busier than most places she liked to frequent, it would do. All she needed was a few moments in the sun, coffee in hand, and waves crashing in her ear. Her little white SUV navigated the city streets handily; she'd learned to drive in New York. Honolulu traffic, while crazy-busy, never fazed her and since it was earlier in the day, it was moving steadily if not quickly. At a stop-light, she quickly gathered long blond hair into a messy bun, turned off the air in the car, and rolled down the window. The car just seemed stifling and, while she waited for the light to change, her thoughts turned to Danny - and, of course, the mess that McGarrett had alluded to when he'd called to tell her to simply watch her step until they heard back from them.

He'd told her that it was likely nothing even as he had asked her how much she knew of Danny's brother's death. Like everyone else Danny had spoken to, she knew the bare bones and nothing else. Matthew Williams had been murdered, despite Danny's best attempts to rescue his fugitive brother from drug cartel's clutches in Colombia. Amber had her own guesses as to what happened and she had assumed that, due the rather unique circumstances of the death, Danny might never see his brother's murderers brought to justice. That, she had also assumed, had been part of the reason for Danny's downtrodden mood after returning from New Jersey. He'd called her once while he was gone and once just before he left; Amber had fought and finagled and finally pleaded until Danny had agreed to wait just long enough for her to see him before he boarded the plane with Grace after returning from Colombia. (Damnable place, in Amber's mind, if only because of this.) She'd seen Commander McGarrett there, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible while she said goodbye to Danny and Grace, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, leaning against the quarterpanel of the Camaro, and looking down at his feet with a frown.

She'd stayed for a few minutes after Danny and Grace had left; McGarrett had caught her on the way out and there had been a very short conversation. McGarrett had made sure she still had his number and vice versa – and then he'd told her to, in not so many words, keep her chin up. Amber tapped her fingers on the edge of the car door and smiled – a little sadly – at the memory. McGarrett had undoubtedly been concerned and grieving himself but his first thoughts were always with his team. It was no wonder Danny held him in such high esteem.

The light turned green and she turned left onto a busier street. The sun was shining brightly, as if in defiance of the storm that had taken hold of the island overnight and into the early morning hours, and she could see the ocean now before her. It seemed calm today: bright, cheerful, and open. Even in her anxiety, her smile grew, just by a little. Maybe after this was all over and things had settled down a bit, she could convince Danny that a picnic on the beach was just the thing for tired souls. (Okay, maybe not the beach but something out and about and relaxing.) She turned into the lot at the park, stopped the car, and sat for a moment before grabbing her coffee and her purse and stepping out into the bright sunshine. The air was humid and heavy, a holdover of the night's rain, but pleasant enough.

Amber had barely straightened her dress and pulled her purse strap over her shoulder when she heard the first footsteps behind her. McGarrett's words echoed a little too loudly in her head and her knuckles tightened over the coffee cup. She began to turn but a beefy hand closed over her upper arm and a metallic click sounded just behind her ear. Eyes wide, she froze. Cold metal brushed against the skin at the back of her neck and a thrill shot down her spine. Another hand – this one a little smaller, more deft than the meaty one clamped around her arm – pulled the purse strap from her shoulder.

"The keys in here? Phone too?" The voice was accented and, once again, McGarrett's warning rang in her head.

Amber's lips moved, but no sound came forth.

The muzzle of the weapon at her neck pushed into delicate skin. "He asked if the keys and phone were in your purse."

"Yes." The word was forced through breathlessness. "Yes. They are."

"Good." The purse was taken from her completely and the man holding her arm jerked her forward. Amber's coffee fell from suddenly nerveless fingers; hot liquid splashed against her bare feet and ankles, but she didn't flinch. She was marched to the passenger side of her car. "Get in. Don't speak unless we ask you something. Don't do anything stupid." The gun pressed into her neck again.

Still, Amber hesitated. At the open passenger door, she balked. That thin hand, deceptively strong, closed around the back of her neck. Across from her, the bigger man – dark complexion with startlingly light eyes and a shock of dark, dark hair – adjusted the driver's seat and dug around her in purse. Forcefully, the man behind her pushed her up against the car; the barrel of the weapon just moved into her peripheral vision.

"Do you see what I see?" He near-whispered it in her ear, his accented words coated with threat.

Amber swallowed hard as a man simply out for a stroll crossed her line of vision.

"If you don't get in the car, I'll shoot the first person who walks past."

Shaking, Amber did as asked.

* * *

><p>Sergeant Duke Lukela dropped a smartphone into an evidence bag as a junior officer took the name of the owner, assuring him that as soon as they were done extracting what they needed, he could have the phone back, no harm and no foul. The man was a little shaken and self-recriminating, which honestly, Duke had little time for. The officer with him did a good job of soothing the man's nerves and ego; Mr. Henry Payne was visiting from Nevada and had seen what he described as a woman in trouble and had been too frozen with fear and trepidation to help. Far from it being a relaxing vacation, as was meant, Payne was in the midst of asking himself why he didn't do a damn thing to help.<p>

Duke could give him all sorts of reasons and, honestly, he couldn't fault the average citizen for most of them. Even police, trained to react, often hesitated in the face of honest danger. If Payne was right and he had actually seen a gun trained on the woman – and not imagined it in the stress – then it was likely he might not have been in any shape to report any crime. Better a living witness than a dead victim, in Duke's eyes, so there was very little he could say to reassure Payne. Let the younger officer who had seen a little less do it.

He sealed the bag and turned his attention back to Payne. The tourist at least had the presence of mind to start recording the incident. Duke had every intention of getting the phone in and out of the crime lab as quickly as possible. If Payne was right, and Duke would act as if he was, then there was a woman in dire trouble. It might already be too late. Quickly speaking into the mike at his shoulder, Duke issued a BOLO for the make and model of the little white SUV Payne had described, as well as a general description of the woman and the two men with her, with the caveat that more information may yet come upon reviewing evidence. Honestly, it wasn't much but it was a start.

"How long do you think this will take?" Payne asked.

Duke shook his head. "I'll rush it. You'll be able to pick it up at the crime lab in a couple of hours. Is there another number we can reach you at?" Possible, perhaps through family or the hotel he was staying at.

Payne nodded and quickly rattled off his wife's number, which the junior officer scribbled hurriedly on a pad.

"Is there anything else you remember?" Duke asked, hoping against hope he'd jar lose some memory of, say, a license plate number or something else useful.

Payne worried his lower lip, dark eyes hooded, and finally shook his head. "Nothing beyond what I've told you already. She was kind of a tiny thing." Duke took that with a grain of salt; Payne himself stood half a foot again over six feet. Lots of people were tiny things to him. "White SUV. One of those little crossovers. Nissan, pretty sure."

Duke thought about revising his BOLO if Payne was only "pretty sure" of the make.

"Two guys. Uh..." Payne pointed toward where the SUV had been in the lot. "She got out with her purse and a cup of coffee. The bigger guy came up behind and grabbed her arm. The smaller one put a gun up against her neck." Payne pressed his lips together and Duke felt a twinge of genuine empathy; Payne was rattled and honestly concerned for this woman. "I mean... that's really all I saw. They forced her into the car and they drove off."

"Did they make her drive?" Duke asked.

Payne shook his head. "The big guy drove."

That kept total control in the hands of the men, and nothing in the hands of the woman. Smart, but it didn't give Duke much clue to motive. It did tell him that these guys probably had some idea what they were doing. That, if true, might make his job harder. Duke nodded at the answered question and let his gaze travel upward, as if some answer might be found in the bright Hawaiian sky.

Plenty of sunlight, peeking through the clouds leftover from the overnight storm. Not a lot of answers. Duke nodded again, as if thinking to himself, and thanking Payne for his time and attention. The junior officer took over then, playing PR-maven while Duke strode back to his squad car.

He had a little piece of evidence to get into the record. On his way toward the car, he stepped in a cooling puddle of spilled coffee – no sugar with just a little cream.

* * *

><p>Amber met Grace's wide brown eyes in the rear-view mirror and instantly wanted to take back everything she'd done from the moment she'd left the office for that damnable breath of fresh air. Grace's eyes were wide and brilliant with unshed tears, her brows drawn together, and her mouth agape just enough to convey the very real terror that had settled into her heart – and Amber couldn't blame her one bit. Grace sat in the backseat of the SUV, far too close to the smaller man than either Amber or Grace was comfortable with but there was no choice. Amber still rode in the front passenger seat; her right hand was zip-tied to the door handle and her left clutched her knee so hard she left small bruises.<p>

The fear in Grace's gaze left Amber's heart clenching in honest recrimination. Had she just been a little stronger, a little braver, just a little more stubborn, then Grace would not be in danger. Amber had balked when she realized what the men wanted her to do and then had been filled with a horrible dread when she had been informed what would happen if she did not go get Grace out of school – one way or another, she'd been informed. Just get it done and no one has an excuse just start start shooting into the school. One kid's life for dozens of others; that's how the choice had been phrased and Amber's breath caught in her throat.

"_I"m going to shoot you first," he'd said. "Shoot you and then waltz right up those steps and gun down whoever I see first. Kid, teacher, I don't care. And then I'll just keep shooting at whatever moves in there. I have things that I need to do and you're not going to stop this." _

And, damn her, but she had. She'd walked into the school, made up some excuse she couldn't even remember anymore, and led Grace like a sheep to slaughter. _I'm so sorry, baby._ She mouthed it into the mirror, hoping Grace at least understood it. The man behind her frowned and the barrel of the gun slid against her ribs from behind the seat. Amber tensed, eyes closing for a moment. When she opened them, Grace was looking back at her in the mirror.

_It's okay._ Her mouthed moved just enough and Amber choked on a sob. Out of the mouths of babes. Danny was going to kill her and he'd be justified in it. Amber's hand clenched into a fist, knuckles white where they rested against the door handle. The zip tie was too tight, cutting deeply into the skin and leaving welts on her wrist. She met Grace's eyes in the mirror again. Grace couldn't – and probably didn't think to – hide the honest plea for help, the fear, the _trust_ there.

Amber took a breath. The muzzle of the gun pressed against her ribs. Once upon a time, Danny had trusted her to take care of Grace when he couldn't. She'd made a terrible mistake here and Danny was going to hate her but she was the only one in this car who Grace was looking to for help. "Where are we going?" she asked and damn her to hell when her voice wavered.

The driver glanced sidelong at her, brow raising. "Grow a backbone?"

Amber looked into the mirror again, drawing strength from the terror in Grace's eyes. "I want to know where we're going and what you want from us."

A hand fisted in her hair and yanked her head back. Amber hissed as her head was forced backward and then to the side uncomfortably. "And I want you to know that I'm going to kill you both if you don't shut up now," the man behind her said, his tone hard-edged.

Amber closed her eyes, choking on a terrified sob. She heard Grace's gasp and forced her gaze to seek out the mirror again. Tears stood out starkly on the girl's cheeks. "It's okay, Grace."

Her hair was yanked in warning. Tears welled in Amber's eyes. The hand moved from her hair and wrapped around her throat. The gun moved to prod at her jaw, just behind her ear. "Will you still talk if I rip out your tongue?"

She swallowed hard and damned herself (again) for the whimper. She fell silent, unwilling to meet Grace's eyes in the mirror for several long moments. When she did, Grace's unmitigated terror had her heart skipping beats. Danny was going to hate her. They could both die out here and it would be Amber's fault entirely. She tried to reassure Grace wordlessly, trying to soften her expression, trying to be a pillar a strength the girl needed but her heart pounded furiously in her chest. It stole her breath. Her hands shook. Pain settled in her swollen wrist; the hand on her throat tightened but Amber was barely breathing anyway.

The SUV slowed and turned left. Through the window, Amber saw they drove through the parking lot of a fairly respectable motel. It definitely wasn't the Hilton, but it was clean enough, well-kept, and close enough to a few fast-food restaurants and small grocers to be convenient. They parked next to a side entrance, well-hidden from the main road. The driver produced a key card from his pocket and the man who had his hand on her throat tightened his grip.

"Try anything and I'll shoot the kid."

Amber met Grace's eyes in the mirror. She nodded in understanding. She was unresisting as the zip tie was cut, didn't put up a fight as they all walked to the door. She didn't even hesitate as they began to climb the stairs at the side of the building. The stairs were carpeted, wide and inviting. There were no windows and the lighting was a little harsh. They passed the second floor landing; the door onto the main corridor had no lock and that's all Amber needed to see. The motel was only four stories high.

She didn't have much time.

As they passed the second-story door, Amber turned her head to seek out Grace. The girl's arm was held roughly by the smaller man, but he was paying almost no attention to her. Dark eyes were trained instead on the space ahead of them and a frown occasionally flitted across his sharp features.

Amber took a breath and tripped on the steps.

"The hell?" The big guy turned toward them but he was already a few steps in front of her and, as Amber had hoped, the smaller man started forward – probably to lift her up by her hair but the important thing was that he let go of Grace. As quickly as she could, Amber dove for the smaller man's knees. It was an awkward dive, nothing to be especially proud of, and driven more by gravity than anything else but it did the trick.

He and Amber landed hard and Amber set her jaw as her right arm folded awkwardly underneath her. White pain exploded behind her eyes, but a glimpse of Grace standing a few steps away, mouth agape and eyes wide, pushed it away.

"Hide," she hissed at Grace.

A hand coiled in her hair; the clip she'd used to gather it up earlier snapped painfully against her skull as she collided with a step. Grace took a few steps back; out of the corner of her eye, Amber saw the heftier man start down the steps, his square jaw clenched and close-set eyes fixed on Grace.

"Grace, _go!_"

With a gasp, the girl turned on her heel and bolted for the nearest door: the second floor door into the main corridor. Amber reached out, crying out as she moved her right arm, and snagged the man's ankles as he tried to step past her. He cursed, arms windmilling wildly as he tried to regain his balance. Amber scrambled to get her feet underneath her, leaving a handful of hair in the smaller man's grasp.

She went in the only way open to her: up the stairs. Right arm pressed against her abdomen, Amber scrambled forward. A hand – she didn't know whose – closed on her ankle; she fell as her foot was yanked from underneath her. Unable to catch herself, her chin clipped the stair hard. Her vision swam dangerously. Nearly sobbing, she pushed herself up.

Amber barely had a glimpse of the meaty fist before it connected with her cheek.

* * *

><p>"Do we seriously have nothing?"<p>

Steve rolled his neck uncomfortably, brows drawn together in concern as he regarded his partner and thought about how best to answer that question. "It's not nothing."

"Don't patronize me, Steve." Danny sighed heftily. He leaned over the table in the bullpen and idly tapped at the screen. "The guy in the barrel was some poor homeless man off the streets. CSU picked up absolutely nothing in my place, aside from a partial shoe print and Lord knows that really helps. Chin's got how many hours of traffic cams to pour through to maybe find nothing and there's no sign of forced entry at my place and don't tell me that maybe I forgot to lock it."

Steve winced at that. Some poor CSU tech had suggested that very thing and that had gone over about as well as a lead balloon.

Danny sighed again and gestured toward the screen, fingers curled as if he imagined some poor soul's neck in his grip.

"We can go through known associates..." Steve began, trailing off as his cell rang. Thumbing the line open, he answered after a quick glance at the ID. "Hey Duke."

Immediately, Danny's full attention was on him.

Steve's face fell as Duke's words registered. He reached up and rubbed a hand over his mouth, which had Danny abruptly on edge. If Danny had tones, Steve had tells and that was one of his. "You're sure, Duke?"

"Sure of what?" Danny asked, voice soft but hard. Steve held up a hand, not impatiently, but his expression was definitely trending toward major concern. Danny's own phone rang before he could say anything else. He answered almost absentmindedly, never tearing his gaze from Steve's face.

That is, not until the administrator at the Academy of Sacred Hearts said what she needed.

Blood drained from Danny's face and he clutched at the edge of the table, knuckles white as the words registered. When he didn't answer for a long moment, the woman on the line repeated his name – again and again.

He was staring at Steve, eyes wide. "Grace," he breathed, anguish in every sound.

Steve's hand encircled his arm. He spoke quickly and urgently to Duke even as Danny managed to actually exchange a few words with the principal of his daughter's school. Training took over; instinct kicked in. He repeated the words he heard to Steve, who relayed them to Duke.

And then Steve was leaning into his personal space, a hand on each arm. "Amber was carjacked."

Danny forgot how to breathe.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Author's note: I am not going to be around much this weekend, so I'm letting another chapter run free. I'm only mildly sorry for the cliffhanger. I hope you all enjoy and, while I haven't been able to respond personally to each reviewer, please believe me when I say that each and every review, favorite, and follow brings a smile to my face. <em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Mirror**  
><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

"_I tried to walk together  
><em>_But the night was growing dark.  
><em>_Thought you were beside me  
><em>_But I reached and you were gone."_

_-Red_

* * *

><p>The Maile Amber alert was out and active even before Steve had hung up on his phone call with Duke Lukela. The sergeant had corralled the bullpen at HPD more than effectively, barking out orders that could rival McGarrett's tone on a good day. Photographs of both Amber and Grace, as well as a description of the small SUV Amber had been driving and general descriptions of the men who had carjacked her. The call had gone out to Chin, Kono, and Lou to double-time it back to the office <em>now<em> and don't bother with dawdling. The fact of the matter was that they honestly couldn't do much from HQ but they needed to regroup, reevaluate, and find firm footing again.

In the time it took for the other three members of the team to arrive, Steve was witness to something he'd seen before and honestly never wished to see again. Danny had come close to falling apart completely, leaning over the table while both hands clenched the edges of it tightly. Two harsh breaths and Steve had seen Danny pull himself back together, piece by failing piece. First, the trembling had stopped, though his knuckles remained white on the table. The lines in his face had hardened into a determined anger: his jaw set, eyes narrowed, and every line of his body was taut with a barely contained rage. Steve had pulled away then, unwilling to push boundaries with a supportive hand on his partner's shoulder. Danny was every inch a man who was shove away any such reassurance; he would hold onto his anger with a single-minded grip and use it keep himself moving forward. By the time Grover strode through the door, Chin and Kono in his wake, Danny was a silent, terrible sentinel at the table.

It was Steve who did the talking, answering the questions before they could be asked. Each of them had faced difficult, personal situations before and Steve could almost see the wave of empathy completely undo the piecing together Danny had done. When Danny wavered – visibly so, a hand once again clutching the table for support and breath ragged – Steve had been the one to step in and keep things as business-like as possible. Chin had caught what he was doing first; he had gently laid a hand on Kono's arm and urged her to step back, to not lean in so close to the detective. Danny had taken a breath then – a real breath, deep and steadying – and the rest of the team had followed suit.

It was personal, absolutely, but it was also a case and they never solved a damned thing while railing against fate.

Steve watched as his team, to varying degrees, did the same thing Danny had manged: reel in fear and let anger guide them. Perhaps it was dangerous, in some way. Perhaps it was reckless, but it was also all they had. Kono stepped up to the table, furiously tapping away at the board as she dug up everything she could find on Reyes and every associate he'd ever had. Danny had watched for a moment before his phone rang; he'd nearly jumped out of his skin at the call. The trembling was back as he answered but when it was HPD, Steve watched the walls drop back into place.

While Danny gave HPD as much information as he possibly could muster about Amber and her habits and Kono tracked the footsteps of a dead man, Steve pulled Lou and Chin aside. "Tell me – _please_ tell me – that you have something."

"I tracked down the Mustang," Lou said, one large hand rising in a placating gesture. "Don't ask. It was pure luck. Guy was just out for a drive. He had argued with his girlfriend, said he needed to clear his head."

Chin picked up the story. "He wasn't much help. He did see a van in the area. He couldn't tell us much about it, but he did have a time."

Steve nodded. "Okay. Okay, good. So we can start with that at least."

Chin looked troubled but it was Grover who spoke. "McGarrett, stop for a second. Without a direction, a time isn't gonna do us much good. We still don't know which cameras might have picked up something and there's not surveillance on every street. If they know what they're doing, they don't have to show up on camera."

Steve frowned, but nodded. "Yeah. I know." He glanced at where Danny stood off to the side of the bullpen, hands running through his hair as he spoke to HPD. Turning back to Chin and Lou, he asked, "What about Amber's car? We know she headed west out of Ala Moana Park."

"That might be doable," Chin said. "If we can just narrow something down here..." He trailed off, frustrated. That unflappable cool that defined Chin Ho Kelly was starting to evaporate.

"Find _something_," Steve stressed.

"Steve!"

He looked up to find Danny crossing the room toward them, Kono following closely behind. Danny's expression was closed, but a horrible fear danced in his eyes. Kono's eyes were narrowed, her brow furrowed. Without another word, Danny strode forward and showed Steve the text on the screen.

_The money for the girls. _

"Kono," Steve barked.

She spun on her heel and practically dived for the table.

"It's going to be a burner," Danny said – and his voice was too level. "They're not dumb."

Steve shook his head. He knew that, but it had to be done. Behind Danny, Kono heaved a frustrated sigh. There was that, then. Burner and untraceable. _Goddamnit. _Her phone rang and she sent it skittering across the table in her haste to grab it. Cursing, she recovered and answered curtly. When she barked two questions – "When?" and "Where?" – all attention was on her.

"No, we'll run it down," she said. "I don't want eyes off the streets until we confirm this one way or another."

Steve noticed Danny trembling again as he turned to watch Kono closely.

Chin's phone rang. Steve glanced at him, lips pressed into a thin line. His conversation mirrored Kono's; the rest of them waited impatiently for some information. After Kono demanded an address, she tapped the screen to end the call. Glancing at Chin, who was still speaking, she looked straight at Danny.

"Someone called in about Grace. The caller told Duke that he was certain it was her."

Danny wavered again. Steve reached out and settled his fingertips on Danny's shoulder. He felt the shaking, felt Danny force himself to take a breath. "Then we're going." There was a resolution in his voice, fueled too much by fear.

"Wait," Chin said. "Wait a sec." He gestured with his phone in hand, expression earnest in the face of Danny's impatient silent anger at the interruption. "Amber's car has been found. It's parked at a motel about eight miles from Ala Moana."

For a moment, they all fell silent. Danny took a shuddering breath and turned to Steve. He laid a hand on his shoulder, palm over his collarbone. "Go. Get Amber."

"Danny..."

"Just..." He shook his head and shoved lightly. "Take Chin and Lou and go. It's the first solid thing we've had. Duke's lead isn't vetted, you know that. I'll take Kono."

"I don't think-" Steve frowned, unwilling to split his team up now. He knew full well that they were all capable. More than, in fact, but now? Now when he needed to keep them all safe, keep them all from heartbreak. He couldn't do it now.

Another light shove against his collar. "Steve. Just go." Danny paused. His hand had stilled, the trembling once again shoved back underneath a veneer of rage. "Please."

Steve watched him closely for a moment and what he saw in Danny's face changed his mind. There was trust there; trust that Steve could handle this for him when he was being pulled in too many different directions. Danny needed to follow through with the call about Grace, but it was tearing him apart to walk away from Amber.

And so Steve nodded. Danny's hand tightened on his shoulder before he abruptly turned and motioned for Kono to follow. Steve caught her eye as she left. She nodded resolutely at the silent plea.

She'd watch his back.

* * *

><p>It was a nice motel. Nothing huge or fancy or anything, but it was clean. Every room had an inside entrance and no balcony, which had Steve frowning. Lou pointed it out, though: if you wanted to control someone, you wanted to limit interaction with the outside. A motel room with an inside entrance and no balcony would certainly go a long way toward doing that. In full gear, the three of them had bullied the manager into compliance. In truth, Steve didn't give him much time to even try a token argument against a search. He'd simply steamrolled through the conversation until he had a guest list. Two seconds from asking for a master key and just searching every room, Chin had asked about cameras.<p>

Steve had to abort a move to pinch the bridge of his nose. Right. They had descriptions of the guys. While Lou grilled the manager over customers, Steve once again glanced at the white SUV parked near a side entrance. His blue Silverado was parked haphazardly behind it and he fairly fidgeted in place as they narrowed down the list of rooms. If they were hear, Amber might well be dead by now, what with all the delaying trying to figure out where to go.

"Third floor," Lou announced, turning from the manager. "Two men, room 314. Checked in yesterday, haven't seen 'em since." He held up a keycard. "Figure it's time to check on 'em. See how they're doing."

Steve settled a hard glare at the manager. "You got a key for the side door there?" He chucked a thumb in the general direction of Amber's SUV.

The manager nodded and, after a moment of fumbling, produced another keycard. Chin took it. "On it," was all he said before he was jogging out the door.

Steve pointed at the manager. "Sit. Don't move." He turned on his heel, Lou close behind, and practically leaped for the stairs. The semi-automatic weapon was comfortable in his hands as he took the stairs, the barrel of the gun easing around corners before he followed. Lou climbed behind him, his own weapon moving, covering them but finding no targets yet. Their footsteps were near silent on the carpet. They passed the second floor landing and turned to continue to the third floor.

Steve glanced at Lou, holding up three fingers and then counting silently down. Lou moved to cover the door. At one, he put his hand on the knob – and it turned under his fingers. Steve took a step back and brought his weapon to bear.

It nearly gave the poor cleaning woman a heart attack.

Eyes wide, her jaw dropped and the scream was a strangled sound, full of sharp fear. Lou lowered his weapon as Steve backed away, one hand up in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, hey, it's good," Lou said quickly. "You're fine. Police, see?" He thumbed his badge at his belt. "Police. We're good."

She fell back against the door jamb, hand over her mouth and scream dying away. She swallowed hard, hand dropping as she tried to speak.

A bullet stole her words.

Red blossomed in her chest as Steve and Lou scrambled for meager cover. The maid slid bonelessly to the floor, her eyes wide and unseeing. Steve, in the more untenable position at the top of the stairs, scrambled to join Lou around the corner of the landing. He shoved himself up against the wall, crouching low as bullets strafed the wall behind where he had been standing moments ago.

"Think we got the right place?" Lou asked dryly.

Steve snorted. Quickly, he double-checked the weapon, and raised a brow at Lou.

"Yeah, yeah," Lou said. "Cover you, you're gonna do something reckless."

"You sound like Danny." Steve ducked back as bullets pinged against the wall.

Grover gave him a look, both brows raised and dark eyes widely innocent. "Just being helpful." He shifted, ready to round the corner and start shooting. "We gonna do this or what?"

Steve winked at him – and dove around the corner. Lou stood, ready to provide cover.

The stairs were empty.

From his position on the floor, Steve cursed. One hand on his earpiece, he directed Chin to the lot. Glancing at Grover, he spoke. "HPD's on the way, right?"

Lou nodded. "Yeah. They were about fifteen minutes from getting here ten minutes ago."

"You could just say five minutes." Steve pushed himself to his feet and pulled the card from a pocket on his tac-vest. "Come on."

The room wasn't far from the door. While Steve unlocked it and pushed the door open, Lou covered the hallway. It was a small room; like the rest of the motel, it was respectable but nothing to write home about. Two beds occupied the main room. A table and two chairs were pushed up against the wall near the window. A single lamp was on between the beds. To Steve's right was a closed bathroom door. He touched Lou's arm lightly, then turned to open the door.

He took a breath – then snorted in frustration when he realized the door was locked. Lou took a step back so that Steve had room for one good kick. (And Lord knows he needed it; the knot of dread that had settled in his stomach would not quit.) The door banged open; Steve caught it on the rebound and trained his weapon on the first thing he saw in the room.

His heart leaped into his throat.

On the floor, half under the counter and her hands zip-tied around the pipes under the sink, Amber was clearly unconscious. The door had just missed banging into her knees. Blood streaked the side of her face, dribbled down her chin from a bloody nose and split lip. Her wrists were raw and still bleeding sluggishly, but her obviously broken right arm caught Steve's attention.

Shoving his weapon aside, Steve crouched to join her under the counter. He heard Lou behind him, kneeling in the doorway. "She alive?"

This time, it was Steve who was trembling. (He saw it clear as day, how he'd have to tell Danny that he was too late. The trust had been misplaced.) It was more trepidation than it was concern that kept his touch gentle as he placed his fingers against her neck. Before he felt a pulse, though, Amber moved. Her mouth tightened and her feet scrabbled against the linoleum floor in an effort to get away from the hand at her throat. At the movement, Lou stood and pulled out his phone. Steve didn't turn away from Amber.

"Hey, hey." His voice was soft and, hopefully, a counterpoint to what she may have heard thus far. "Amber. It's good. It's okay." Steve looked at the zip-tie, wincing on her behalf at the way her position pulled on the fracture. "You with me?"

Her breathing was ragged. Frightened, Steve realized. Absolutely frightened. He cupped her cheek with a gloved hand. "Come on." Gently, he patted her check. "Eyes open, Amber. I gotta see you, okay? We're here to help."

She was coming around. Steve glanced at Lou once again kneeling in the doorway. "Ambulance is on its way. Just a few minutes behind HPD," he said. There was a look in his eye, mirrored in Steve's own. Rage, grief, concern. He barely knew this woman and all he could think about was what this would do to Danny. "She all right?"

Steve frowned. No, not really. "She's on her way back." He moved his hand, carefully brushing strands of hair out of her face. "Aren't you, Amber?"

The sound she made was more a whimper than anything; both Steve and Lou winced at it, but her eyes opened. Unfocused and frightened, but open, and Steve mustered up a smile for her. "Hey you."

Her brow furrowed. Her mouth worked for a moment before she managed sound. "Commander?" It was a breath, nothing more than a word borne on an exhale.

"One and only," Steve returned. His smile fell as he looked back to her hands. "I'm going to cut the tie. It's going to hurt. Do you understand?"

Amber licked her lips and swallowed. In her face, beyond the pain and fear, Steve saw much the same thing he'd watched Danny do earlier that day. He saw her push it aside, saw her use the fear to fuel determination. He smiled at her again, more real this time but no less worried.

"Grace," she said. "Grace." Her eyes focused a little more and she looked past Steve, past Grover, and to the open door. Dimly, Steve heard sirens in the distance.

"We'll find her." Steve's voice was resolute.

"I sent her away." Amber's gaze found Steve. "I made her run." Tears welled, ran down her cheeks, leaving tracks in blood. "Danny's gonna hate me."

Lou made a noise at that: genuine concern and soft disbelief. Steve worried his lip and his hand found the nape of her neck. Amber flinched at the contact. "Look at me, Amber."

She did. That fear was foremost in her gaze again.

There were a million things Steve could say but it wasn't his place. This was a conversation for Danny and Amber and no one else. "You sent Grace away? What does that mean, Amber?"

She licked her lips again. "Distraction." Steve furrowed his brow. Amber's expression changed again, a resolute anger taking over, pushing the fear aside just for that moment. "Fought. Distracted them so Grace could run."

Steve stared at her, mind whirling. Abruptly, he pulled the knife from its sheath. "Call Kono," he barked at Lou. "Call her." He said a little more quietly, but with no less edge. The lead had placed Grace nearly on the other side of the island. If Amber had managed to get her free, then... then what? Danny and Kono were following up on a witness wannabe?

That knot of dread seized Steve's breath. He hoped that's all it was. He hoped it was nothing more than someone seeing something wrong – which left him floundering, trying to figure out where Grace could be. He took a breath, ran his hand over Amber's hair, and, supporting her elbow with one hand, he cut the zip-tie. Her left hand fell away; Steve cradled her right arm as gently as he could manage.

The sirens were louder now – in the parking lot, by the sound of them – but all Steve could hear was the soft sounds of Amber's ragged breathing.

Then Chin's voice sounded in his earpiece, breathless and relieved.

_Steve, you're not gonna believe what I just found. _

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>

* * *

><p><em>Okay, now I'm not gonna be around for a few days. I felt bad about the cliffhanger, so, before I leave off for a little while, I'll give you something slightly less cliffhanger-y. See? I'm a nice whump-obsessed author!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

Mirror  
>Chapter Four<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow."<br>__-Ursula K. Le Guin_

* * *

><p>Chin took the steps as carefully and quickly as Steve and Lou had tackled the other staircase. The carpeted stairs absorbed his footsteps; he was able to climb with almost no sound at all. It unnerved him, simply because it meant that nearly anyone could also take the same steps without making much noise. The silence had him turning to watch over his shoulder more than once. The sleek, black shotgun was an old trusted friend in hand and his gaze was wary and worried.<p>

This whole damned situation was going to fall apart, Chin could feel it. The team had already near fallen apart over stolen money once before and here it was again, coming back to bite them all in the ass. But what else could they do? Chin would do the same thing over and over again, if it meant that he could give Danny just a chance to try to save Matty. His career was hanging by a thread because of it and Matthew Williams was long dead, but Chin had no regret.

Did he wish that Steve and Danny had kept better track of millions of dollars? Absolutely, but upon hearing what had actually happened in Colombia, Chin hadn't been able to keep an iota of blame in his heart. For the most part, Danny had been pretty quiet about Matty since his brother had up and disappeared years ago, but there had been occasional conversations in which Danny expressed concern and regret. There was a look in Danny's eye when it happened and Chin hadn't struggled at all to place it; he'd felt the same guilt time and again over the course of his own life.

So Chin didn't regret any of it. What was done was done and now they could only deal with what came on the heels of everything.

He did owe Danny a nice long conversation after all this was over, though. Beers and talk and hell if Chin wasn't going to make damned certain that Danny was holding it all together. First though: make sure that Danny and everyone related was safe, sound, and able to hold such a conversation later.

Chin was only a few steps from the third floor landing when Steve's voice echoed in the earpiece. Acknowledging the order, Chin turned abruptly and fairly flew down the steps. His steps echoed dully, buffered by the wide hallways and the carpet. He hit the door at a flat run, pulling up short to find his bearings – and possibly the suspect. Gaze immediately going toward the front of the building, where Steve and Lou had ascended, Chin caught movement: a body disappearing about the corner of the building.

He broke into a run, oddly comforted by the sound of his footsteps slapping pavement. The carpeted hallways had been almost eerily silent. Chin rounded the corner, slowing just enough to look around. To his right, motorists on a busy street slowed upon seeing a man approaching the sidewalk with a shotgun in hand. Before him, a gas station and convenience store stood silent sentinel on the corner. Between the motel lot and the convenience store, a narrow alley ran and instinctively, Chin went in that direction. There had been no sounds of snarled traffic, so he didn't think his quarry had run across the street and there wasn't anywhere else to go.

Shotgun held at the ready, Chin entered the alley. Behind the store, a half-full dumpster stood, a few cardboard boxes stacked beside it. An old fire escape hung on the building adjacent. The end of the alley opened onto a fairly busy sidewalk and street. Gaze ever watchful, traveling over the alley and everything in it, Chin caught sight of a man turning the corner. Lips pressed together, Chin broke into a run.

And very nearly fell flat on his face as something else caught his attention.

Near the dumpster, a box fell from the stack and Chin barely had time to move the shotgun up and away before a small form practically tackled him. Small hands clutched at his tac-vest; she rocked into him with such force and speed that he was forced back a few steps. His heart stuttered as he looked down at her, jaw agape and eyes wide – and the man he was chasing all but forgotten.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders – and Danny would probably kill him for having that shotgun so close to his daughter, but it wasn't as if he had a choice here – and reached down to tilt her jaw up with the other hand. Grace didn't say a word, but she did look up, tears in her eyes and an ugly carpet-burn decorating one cheek.

Chin's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he hadn't believed it could be Grace. They had known that Amber had pulled Grace from school, but since getting the call that Grace had been sighted across the island, they had assumed that Amber and Grace had been separated. If they hadn't – and Chin was looking at the evidence right here – then Danny and Kono were, at best, following up on a dead lead. (Chin winced inwardly at the phrase. 'Dead' was not a word he wanted in the same sentence with 'Grace.') Chin took a long breath, cupped the back of Grace's head, and pulled her in for an embrace.

Words could come later. For now, she was trembling violently and sobs had started to wrack her shoulders. Calling Steve on the radio, he said, "Steve, you're not gonna believe what I just found." And speaking of, Chin was going to have to start heading back that way soon, but only after McGarrett gave the all clear. No way was he walking Grace back into a possible situation.

As he waited for McGarrett to answer – and what was taking him so damned long? – Chin murmured reassurances to the girl currently hanging onto him like her life depended on it. (Maybe, in her mind, it did, and that thought nearly stole Chin's breath again. For all that Grace was Danny's daughter, his absolute pride and joy, she was also an integral part of their team – their little family. The day that anything happened to Grace was a dark day for all of them and not simply because they felt for Danny.)

_Chin. What does that mean? _Steve's voice was distant and preoccupied through the earpiece. Chin frowned, brow furrowing and wondering at Steve's tone.

"Grace," he said. "I found Grace in the alley behind the motel. She was hiding back here."

He could hear Steve blow a hissing breath and, in it, all the anger and worry that Grace's disappearance had incited was given sound. _Is she all right?_

"A little banged up, I think." Chin's arm tightened around her shoulders. Grace leaned into him, her soft sobs slowly turning to sniffles.

"Uncle Steve?" she asked, voice wavering.

Chin nodded at her, vaguely surprised that she had been aware and listening well enough to know he'd been speaking to Steve. "He wants to know how you're doing."

"M'okay," she answered, leaning her head against Chin and tucking herself neatly under his arm. "Tell Uncle Steve that he had to save Amber."

Chin nodded again. "She's worried about Amber."

_Rightfully so._ Steve's tone was hard-edged with concern. _Amber took a beating. She's secure, though, and an ambulance is a few minutes out. She told us Grace was with her. Lou's trying to call Kono. _

"Any luck?"

A pause. _Straight to voicemail._

Chin bit his tongue against the curse that welled up all too easily. As if reading his mind, Grace turned her face up to him. "Where's Daddy?"

Chin managed a quick smile for her, absolutely unwilling to wipe that hopeful, frightened gaze off her face. "A little bird somewhere," and when Chin got his hands on that "bird," he was certainly be "singing" something, "told us that they thought they saw you way over on the other side of the island, so your dad and Kono went to go check it out."

"Will he be okay?" There was so much worry wracking her small frame; she was still trembling.

"He's your Danno, isn't he?" It was the best he could: an answer that was nowhere near an answer, but it was hopefully enough to deflect the question.

Grace nodded quickly and tucked her head back up under Chin's arm. In the earpiece, Steve's voice sounded again. _Take Grace back to my truck. Lou will meet you there. Ambulance is here. I'm gonna turn the scene over to HPD and ride with Amber to Queens. _

"We'll be right behind you," Chin assured him.

_Try not to let Grace see too much of what's going on. It won't do her any good to see Amber right now. _

"Understood." Chin gently turned Grace back toward the motel, careful not to dislodge her or somehow aggravate some hurt he didn't yet know about. "Come on, Grace. Let's get you taken care of."

Grace fell into step beside him, arms still wrapped around him. They moved slowly, but Chin was relatively certain that Grace moved so deliberately out of fear, rather than pain. "Did Uncle Steve find Amber?" she asked so quietly that Chin almost didn't make out the words.

"He did," Chin answered slowly, uncertain of how much information to divulge. Grace wasn't in much of a state to deal with anything overly difficult and Amber's injury might be just that, especially so since Chin didn't have a clear idea of how severely she was wounded.

"Good." Grace sniffled. "They kept saying that they would..." She swallowed hard and her breath caught on a soft sob. "That they would kill her."

Chin squeezed her shoulders. "She's hurt but Steve's with her." There was no sense in lying to Grace. She knew better.

And she proved that right by nodding once. "I know. I saw." Tears flowed freely down Grace's dirt- and blood-smeared cheeks. Chin tucked her up close and led the way to Steve's truck. By the time they met Lou there, the motel lot was host to a number of police squad cars. One ambulance stood at the entrance, lights flashing harshly.

* * *

><p>Kono drove.<p>

It was an unspoken agreement: Danny knew he was in no shape to drive anywhere and Kono knew it full well, too. Had Danny been driving, he might have actually done any number of the dumb things he accused Steve of doing. It was a mostly silent ride, which had Kono on edge. The address was a good ways from the heart of Honolulu; Kono had ridden that far and further even with Danny before and silence had never filled the air.

Today, silence reigned.

Oh, Danny had spoken here and again: to confirm the address, to ask Kono to repeat what Duke's words actually were, to ask if there was any word from Steve, though he knew that answer already. McGarrett would have called the very second he had something. There had been a desperate, frail sort of hope underpinning the hard tones of his voice when he did speak and Kono's heart broke anew each time she heard it.

They pulled up at the address Duke had given them. For a moment, neither moved: Kono waiting for Danny's lead and Danny held secure by fear for Grace. After a harsh sigh, Danny opened the door. They exited the car and Danny caught her eye as she came around the hood.

"Whatever happens," he said – and Kono caught her breath at the words, a very real fear rising to close her throat. "Thanks." His casual one-shouldered shrug belied the words. Kono saw his hand shaking as he reflexively checked the weapon on his hip and the straps on his tac-vest.

Kono stepped past him, hand resting on his shoulder for a moment. She had no words for that, but she could offer support. _Let's do this, _she wanted to say. _Everything will be fine, _she wanted to promise. The words stuck in her throat, though, and she couldn't make the promises – no promises beyond having his back, whatever happened here.

The house was modest and stood, it seemed, empty. A realtor's sign stood in the front lawn. The driveway had been long, off a fairly desolate road, and it backed up to a forested area. Desolate and empty, it seemed as if the house itself held its breath. No neighbors stood nearby, no sound save for the breeze rustling foliage, met their ears. A gate leading to the back stood open. Kono gestured toward it and Danny nodded; she peeled off, heading for the back while Danny jogged silently to the front door. She saw him press himself against the wall beside the door just as she rounded the corner. Before she crossed to the backdoor, she thumbed her phone to silent. (One amazingly dumb incident where her phone rang at the most inopportune time taught her that a silent phone was great for silent maneuvers.) Knowing Danny was giving her time to get into position, Kono scurried toward the back quickly. She touched her earpiece and almost whispered the word: "Now."

She had seen Danny when Rick Peterson took Grace. She had seen the determination, the rage, and the fear that had driven him. She had seen him at the edge – and had watched as he'd pulled back from it. If she had any doubts that Danny could do the job when it was personal, they had dissipated then. He had done what he had to do and somehow managed not to go completely off the rails. He had wavered, and he had shot two unarmed men that day, but he had put himself back together when Grace had needed him most.

If that was the man she was working with in this – that man who had showed himself as human as the rest of them but still somehow managed to swallow all the fear and let it drive him – then she was comfortable with it.

Danny murmured an acknowledgment in her ear. Kono put her hand on the doorknob and turned, snatching her hand back quickly when it opened easily. A series of soft clicks caught her attention and, eyes wide, she cursed and danced backward. As the booby-trapped doorframe exploded in a shower of sparks and splinters, Kono turned away from it, hand rising to protect her head and face from the worst of it. The explosion itself wasn't much: more than a flashbomb but it certainly wasn't designed to kill.

Even as the thought occurred to her, Kono was straightening. Danny's voice rang in her ear, worriedly calling her name, telling her he was on his way. "It's a distraction," she called, stumbling back and bringing her weapon to bear – but she had no target. Movement caught the corner of her eye, a dark shape through smoke and fire. As she turned, it connect with the side of her head. Pain exploded behind her eyes and she collapsed, weakly grappling with the hands that pulled her weapon from her reach.

It was as if she was still seeing the world through smoke. Her vision blurred and swam. A hand fisted in her hair and pulled her to her knees. Kono gagged at the movement, one hand clawing at the fist in her hair and other making some attempt to fight back; it was uncoordinated and clumsy. A hand closed around her wrist and forced her arm behind her back.

She saw Danny come around the corner. Saw his expression dance through a gamut of emotion – fear, concern, rage – before it settled into hard lines. She heard shouting, but couldn't make out the words. Her body felt leaden. She tried to raise her hand again, but a sharp cuff to the side of her head had darkness closing in on her.

The last thing she saw before that darkness claimed her was Danny tossing his weapon to the ground.

* * *

><p>When Grace had finally seen Steve in a waiting room at Queens, she had launched herself at him and refused to let go. Amber had been taken in immediately off the ambulance; Steve had followed long enough to give an accounting of the events he knew. He had questions but, while Amber was still lucid, she was in pain and fighting what looked to be an overwhelming urge to let unconsciousness have her. He let her go with a final word of reassurance, once again telling her that Grace was safe.<p>

And then he'd been adrift for a few seconds, running his hand over his face. He tried Danny's phone, then Kono's, lips pressed together into a thin line when both calls went straight to voicemail. Again, his hands went through his hair and he turned toward the opening ER doors to find Chin with Grace tucked under his arm and Lou following like a silent, looming guard. Grace's eyes had lit up when she'd seen him; Chin let her go with an indulgent little smile, tempered by worry. Steve, having caught a glimpse of the skinned knees and scraped cheek, nodded toward the nurses' station. With a nod, Lou and Chin headed that way. Within moments, a nurse was leading both Steve and Grace to a room; Grace had refused to go alone. Chin had followed partway, assuring Steve that he'd keep him abreast of any changes and of any communication. Innocuous words for a child's ears, but underpinned by a worry that had them all on edge.

Grace had been treated quickly and given mild painkillers. Her wounds were completely superficial. She had confided tearfully to Steve that she had run into the alley and froze: so frightened that she had been unable to call for help, or go anywhere else, she had hidden, afraid that the men who had grabbed her and Amber would be following. And, she said, hoping against hope that Amber would follow her. It hadn't been until Chin had come into the alley that Grace had found something safe and familiar. Steve had tucked her head into his shoulder at the tearful confession. At a loss for words, that was how Lou found them some minutes later.

Lou – big, intimidating Lou – had melted in the face of Grace's tears. He knelt in front her, asked her what was in her head, and, as Steve urged her to speak, gently got the whole, horrible story from her. Through tearful statements, they learned exactly what happened from the moment Amber had picked Grace up at her school to the moment she found Chin in the alley.

Steve's body was rigid with anger as her story concluded. Lou looked at her with an expression that spoke all too clearly what he thought of this whole thing: sorrow intermingled with rage.

"You did good," Lou said at the end of all that and offered Grace a quick, sad smile when she shook her head. "I know you don't think so but you did exactly what you needed to do. Your dad's gonna be proud of you. I know that much."

Grace looked up at Steve, who nodded in agreement. She sighed and melted back into Steve's side. Lou stood and crossed his arms, once again the imposing sentinel. "Amber's settled in a room and ready for visitors. I had a feeling a couple people in this room might want to see her." He glanced at Grace.

"How bad?" Steve asked.

"Broken arm," Lou answered, still giving Grace a considering look. His gaze shot to Steve, as if asking if Grace was all right hear this. At Steve's slight nod, he continued. "A little banged up, bruised to hell and back. Moderate concussion but she's awake."

Steve looked at Grace, who was frowning, brows scrunched together. "So a good prognosis?" he asked, prodding Lou to give Grace the words she was hoping to hear.

"She'll be all right, given a bit of time. They want to keep her here a few days." Which, in Steve's mind, was a damned good thing. Amber in a hospital room gave them an opportunity to guard her far more effectively.

Steve squeezed Grace's shoulders and hopped off the bed, coaxing her to come along with him. "Whaddya say, Gracie? I'm sure she wants to see that you're okay."

She nodded, a tentative smile playing at the corners of her lips. Steve ran his hand over her head. "It's good, Grace. Everything's okay."

He hoped he wasn't lying.

Lou led the way to Amber's room; Steve walked with an arm draped loosely over Grace's shoulders. As they talked, Grace seemed to shed a good bit of the fear that had taken hold of her. In all honesty, Steve couldn't blame her for the way she'd reacted. Who could? She was young and sheltered in a good many ways. A child, to be protected, and Steve would send anyone to hell who hurt her – and he'd be in line behind Danny, standing with the rest of his team.

Chin was sitting in a chair next to the bed, talking softly with Amber as they entered. Her head turned to see the new arrivals and Grace finally left Steve's side to stand next to Chin. Chin stood, rested a hand on Grace's shoulder for a moment, and then stepped aside. "I'll be right outside with Steve and Lou, okay, Grace?"

Amber caught his hand as he turned to leave. Words failed her, but her expression was both grateful and worried. Chin patted her hand, gave Grace a quick hug, and urged both Steve and Lou to stand just outside the door. Before they left, he heard Amber's soft, tearful "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

For a long moment, there was silence between the three men as they collected themselves. They all knew that the cartel had just lost their leverage, which could make them more dangerous and unpredictable. They wouldn't simply walk away now, not when they had eighteen and a half million dollars at stake; though the money wasn't actually in play, the powers that be in the cartel didn't know that – and wouldn't believe it, should evidence of it come their way.

In addition, with the information that Grace had never been separated from Amber came another concern: it was absolutely possible that Danny and Kono had followed a planted lead. The cartel's men on the ground in Hawaii would know that there was a very good chance that Danny himself would follow that lead. At best, it was someone who had simply been overzealous. At worst, they had led Danny and Kono into a trap and now, with phones unanswered, it was looking more and more like a trap.

Steve took a breath; from his position, he could see Grace and Amber talking. They were safe and he'd be damned before he let them fall into anything else. "Chin," he said, eyes still on the pair in the hospital room, "get that address from Duke. I want to know where Danny and Kono went."

Chin nodded and pulled out his phone, taking a few steps away so as not to interrupt whatever Steve had to say next.

He spoke to Lou, voice low and earnest, and finally tearing his gaze from inside the room. "I need you here." Voice edging on raw, he continued. "I need to know that they are in capable and trusted hands. I don't want anyone but my team on this."

Lou nodded and clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder, then walked back into the room. Chin followed, stopping just long enough to tell Steve that Duke was texting the address. Steve followed in their wake and went to kneel beside Grace, who sat stiffly in the chair Chin had vacated.

"We're gonna go get your Dad, kiddo." He mustered up a smile for her, shoving worry aside. He nodded toward Lou. "Captain Grover's going to stay here with you and Amber, okay? Anything you need, he'll get it." He leaned over and laid a hand on Amber's forearm, squeezing lightly; she was starting to drift off, despite her attempts to actually converse with Grace. "Keep Amber company. She looks like she needs it."

Grace glanced at Lou before nodding.

Steve mussed her hair as he stood, adopting a casual stance so as not to worry Grace any more than she already was. "We'll be back soon."

He turned on his heel, striding from the room, purpose in every step, and Chin fell into step just behind.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Again, time to answer each and every review has slipped away from me. I appreciate all of you! I hope you're all still enjoying this sudden burst of weird inspiration. :)<em>


	5. Chapter 5

Mirror  
>Chapter Five<p>

"_We had a plan to build a wall...  
><em>_...and brick by brick, we built it so thick  
><em>_that it blacked out the sky and all the sunlight."  
><em>_-Thousand Foot Krutch_

* * *

><p>Kono's fingers were cold and still in Danny's hand. His fingers lightly coiled around her wrist, he kept his fingertips on the pulse point there, keeping track of a thankfully steady pulse. The hit she had taken on the head had knocked her out cold; she had barely stirred as they had been forced into a van. (Well, she had been roughly carried and he'd followed behind, unwilling to put up too much of a fuss while Kono was in such a vulnerable position.) The ride had seemed to take forever and a day and Kono had remained unconscious through it all. Danny hadn't been surprised, considering how had a hit she had taken, but it did worry him.<p>

They were in a basement now – somewhere Danny wasn't sure at all; he hadn't been able to keep track of much while at gunpoint in the back of a windowless van. Steve probably would have done some freaky GPS-thing in his head, which had always kind of impressed Danny a little when he managed something like that, but Danny wasn't that good. He was good, sure. Great at what he did. Just not at calculating direction and distance without looking.

Danny had taken his own hit when he balked at the top of the steps. The man dragging Kono down behind them had lashed out with his heavy boot and nearly sent Danny headfirst down the stairs with a well-placed kick behind Danny's knee. He's fallen hard – straight down to the step by sheer will and desperate hold on the banister – and cracked his kneecap on the edge of a step. Besides giving direction now and again, the three men who'd grabbed them hadn't said anything, but Danny had a pretty good feeling the questions would start soon enough.

He just wished that they hadn't thrown them into a basement, handcuffed to his unconscious teammate around a pole set so close to the wall that they were both pretty much trapped right there. Danny had sat on the floor next to where Kono was sprawled, her cuffed wrist in his own cuffed hand, and stretching a little awkwardly to keep an eye on her, just waiting for her to finally wake up.

It gave him way too much time to think. His mind strayed to Grace, to Amber, to Matty, even his parents and his sisters and pretty much everyone he knew. It was a horrible choice forced on him: either fill his mind with Kono's bloodied face or let his very overactive imagination provide him with different death scenarios for every person he knew and marginally cared for, in order of most loved to "had a handful of pleasant conversations." It was a long list and his only saving grace was knowing full well that one Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett would grab onto his request to keep Amber safe like a damned pit bull and God love him for it.

And then Chin would break down every door on the island looking for Kono and Danny, by extension, right along with her and Danny could only hope that Grace was swept up in all the (so far theoretical) rescuing somewhere. That they hadn't found her and instead had walked right into an obvious (in hindsight) trap gave Danny a little boost of hope. It meant that Grace was likely not in the clutches of men who would ruthlessly knock a couple cops around as a means to an end. So he hoped and even prayed that Grace was caught up in all the rescuing, that maybe Amber and Grace hadn't been seperated after all, that Steve and Chin and Lou would take a few names and kick a few asses in their quest to keep the people who called Danny friend and family safe.

Because otherwise, if he didn't doggedly hold onto that, it was far too easy to fall into old patterns. Steve's power of positive thinking was about the only think keeping Danny sane at the moment; the old walls of the basement and the low ceiling and the one light barely keeping shadow at bay brought with them all the old, horrible thoughts. All the images of violence and death he couldn't entertain were in those barely contained shadows.

He'd fall apart if he didn't keep them in those shadows.

The basement wasn't exactly doing wonders for his mental health here, but he'd long ago abandoned reciting baseball line-ups for telling himself over and over again that, if McGarrett was going to fill his fail one mission this year so as to still look like an occasionally fallible human being quota, he wasn't going to start with this one. Danny knew Steve – and Chin and, hell, even Lou – well enough to know that any one of the three would move mountains when it came protecting one of their own. Put the three together and their dogged determination could be felt halfway across the mainland.

_Carter's behind the plate _had been replaced by _Grace is safe. Amber's okay. The team will make sure of it._ He said it aloud just to hammer it through his own thick head. "Grace is safe."

The words echoed lightly in the closed off basement. The hanging light swayed in a nonexistent breeze. Danny's fingers adjusted their grip around Kono's wrist; her pulse was steady and true.

"Grace is safe."

The whisper itself seemed to beat back the darkness, if only for a short moment.

"Grace is safe."

Kono's hand was warmer in his. Her hand moved, tentative at first and then pulling uncomfortably at the cuffs. Danny's wrist was caught awkwardly between the wall and the pipe. He leaned forward, his other hand smoothing over her forehead before patting lightly at her cheek. "Kono? You with me?"

Her brow furrowed and, once again, she yanked at the cuffs. Okay, so maybe not completely with him, but aware enough to know she was well and truly trapped. Too bad all her yanking was doing was bending Danny's wrist the wrong way. He patted her cheek again. "Okay, doll? You can stop that anytime." He bent awkwardly, the fingers on his cuffed hand resting lightly over her knuckles.

She blinked at him, gaze a little foggy but recognition in their depths. Danny was glad to see it. He let his free hand fall away from her cheek as she scooted back toward the wall. "The hell?" Her voice was rough and raw and, once again, she yanked on the cuffs.

Danny grunted. "Babe. Ow."

Kono looked down at the cuffs and winced. "Sorry." She reached up with her free hand and ran it over her face. "Okay. Okay. Sorry."

Danny carefully twisted his wrist free of its awkward position. "Take your time." Lord knows he knew what it was like to come to after a hit like that. It always took a few minutes.

Her hand dropped to her lap. "Where are we?"

"Good question." Danny carefully moved, free hand reaching up to probe at Kono's bruised temple. She gave him an unimpressed look but he stalwartly ignored it in order to check the wound. "I wasn't able to keep track."

Her brow furrowed and she sighed. "So we're not at that house anymore?"

He shook his head. "You, doll, slept through a good bit."

"Sorry." Kono ran a hand through her hair, mussing up an already fairly wild mane. She leaned back against the wall; Danny pulled his hand away. "He really got the jump on me."

At that, Danny winced. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Not your fault." Kono groaned and rested her hand over her eyes. "We were both in too much of a hurry."

Again, Danny winced, though Kono couldn't see it. So desperate for some news of Grace, they hadn't done much in the way of preparation on this one – and that lack of preparation had manifested in the worst of ways. Handcuffed and prisoner, neither were in a position to do much about it. Those dark thoughts threatened to overwhelm him again – _Grace is safe _– and Danny forced them aside by focusing solely on Kono.

She was gaining some strength, though he had seen her trouble focusing. He kept his fingers resting lightly on her wrist, something he was sure that she noticed but she hadn't said anything about it. Through it all, her heartbeat had been steady and strong and Danny gave thanks for that. Her skin was a little cold, a little clammy and that bruise stood out starkly against her dark skin. "How's your head?" he asked, voice soft.

"Hurts like a bitch." She said it wryly and peered at him as she lifted her hand to look under it toward him. "Can't wait to return that favor." Her grin was worried and lopsided, but hell if Danny didn't try to return it. You can take Five-0 out of the fight but apparently, the fight didn't leave Five-0 so easily. His own answering grin was uncertain; he latched onto Kono's ruthless optimism in lieu of realizing once again how close these walls were. Stark shadows threw the walls into sharp relief, hid the corners of the basement, but Kono's grin was a lifeline – and Danny needed it desperately.

There was a shrewd look in her eye, even through the concussion-induced fuzziness, and her gaze seemed to see right into Danny's heart. That grin became something more concerned, her brow furrowing again as she regarded him. For all that Danny was trying very hard to remain impassive and determined, he felt as he walked a knife's edge, waiting for the inevitable moment when his soul shattered into a million dark pieces. That Kono could see it didn't surprise him in the least. He had been broadcasting his very real worry since they received the news about Amber and Grace.

_(Grace is safe.)_The shadows were longer now.

"Danny..." Kono's voice was soft and raw; it threatened to send him tumbling from his carefully-constructed edge.

He shook his head, expression hardening. He couldn't think about it now. Could _not_ and if he did he'd fall apart right here and then where would they be?

Kono watched him for a long moment before simply nodding, her own concern shuttered behind a hardened countenance. Concern gave way to resolve, worry to rage. She nodded again, turned her wrist in his fingers and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Perceptive she may be, but she couldn't let the moment go without some attempt at encouragement.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open; no additional lights were turned on but bright sunlight spilled down the old staircase, dust motes dancing without a care in the rays. Danny's fingers closed around Kono's hand and, with a look to each other, they climbed to their feet. It was almost seamless, how they moved together, born from long hours working together. Footsteps sounded on the old steps, wood creaking in protest.

_(Grace is safe.)_

Two men came down the stairs: one reminded Danny of McGarrett, in a way. Tall and lean and with a physical presence that filled a space, he immediately drew Danny's eye. Behind him came another man, similar in height but beefier. Both dark-haired, the first was dark-skinned. Danny knew from personal experience that tough callouses covered the pads of his fingers; he was used to hard work, which honestly didn't give Danny much in the way of reassurance.

The second man – light-skinned and green-eyed and damned imposing in those stark shadows at the bottom of the steps – hung back, arms crossed tightly as he took up a position at the base of the staircase. The first stopped in front of Danny; the detective drew himself up, tense and waiting.

No one breathed. Dust danced lightly, a halo around the second man's dark hair. Kono's gaze cut to Danny and her fingers tapped lightly against his wrist.

_Be careful. _She didn't have to say it aloud; he felt it in her touch.

The man in front of Danny moved quickly; Danny barely had time to brace himself before a wicked punch connected with his jaw. He staggered to the side, Kono's gasp echoing loudly in his ear. Her hand closed around his arm, giving him some support while he found his footing again. His cuffed hand turned awkwardly behind him, but her grip there was strong.

Danny grunted, turned his head, and spat blood. (Some part of his mind winced; he practically drooled blood nearly right on Kono's shoes. Disgusting.) Kono was quiet but stalwart. Her hand on his bicep never wavered and she barely staggered under his weight before he found his feet. Danny shook his head and straightened, shoving pain aside and letting anger take what it will. If he was angry, he couldn't be afraid. The shadows, the worry, the fear couldn't have him if anger had him.

"You know what we're here for." The man's voice carried only a hint of an accent; his tone was dark.

Danny's mouth moved before he could think better of it. "Honeymoon?"

The man's forearm came up to press against Danny's throat; he drove Danny back into the wall. Kono's hand fell away from his arm, but her hand in his clawed at his wrist. She hissed his name and Danny saw, out of the corner of his eye, her free hand balled into a fist. She swung mercilessly – only to connect to the second man's forearm. He'd moved so quickly Danny hadn't even seen him; he spun and his elbow caught Kono just below the throat. Choking, she struggled to remain on her feet and, when she did fall to her knees, Danny's wrist caught painfully against the pipe. By the time she regained her senses, the second man had her effectively pinned to the wall.

The pressure against Danny's throat only increased. Grey danced around the edges of his vision. The shadows lengthened, undulating and reaching into the dim light.

_(Grace is safe.) _It was a desperate though, nearly a prayer that his team come through for him on this one. If the shadows took him, then at least Grace would be safe and that's what mattered. He needed to believe that McGarrett wasn't going to let a damn thing stop him and damned be anything that said otherwise.

But it was hard to remain positive in any way when the shadows were actively trying to steal his consciousness. Kono hissed his name again; he saw her bucking against her captor. A vision of another time, another place, superimposed over her: another partner, her wild curls untamed in both life and death watching in concern and fear. Danny's free hand scratched at the arm at his neck and his heels scrabbled against the concrete floor.

As darkness came for him – and he grit his teeth against it – the pressure suddenly lessened. Gasping for air, Danny was pulled forward by a hand in his collar. That meaty fist connected with his jaw again; the tang of blood sat on his tongue and he was thrown forward. With one arm bent painfully behind him, Danny landed on his knees and one hand. Kono's fingers clawed desperately at his wrist; she'd fallen silent but that said all he needed to hear. Her concern bolstered him and he found it in himself to return the man's impassive gaze with a heated rage-fueled look of his own.

"Let's talk about the money," the man said.

Danny knew it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. Far from it.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

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><p><em>Author's Note: My apologies for the delay on this one. Pneumonia sucks. <em>


	6. Chapter 6

Mirror  
>Chapter Six<p>

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><p>"<em>You're the one who kept on pushing 'til I made you bleed."<br>__-Disturbed_

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><p>Steve's dark blue Silverado chewed up the pavement between Queens Medical Center and the address Duke had given Kono. Chin had continually tried both Kono's and Danny's phones as they traveled, hoping against hope that one of them would answer and give some dumb excuse as to why they'd been out of contact. He wanted nothing more than to be able to tell Danny that both Amber and Grace were safe and would stay that way, especially with Grover acting as guard dog.<p>

As they turned off the main road and found themselves moving further and further into the forest, Chin and Steve exchanged a worried look. The possibility that this was a trap for Danny – and Kono had been dragged along inadvertently – was growing more and more likely. Neither of them wanted to think it, but since the possibility had first been broached, it had grown to become nearly the only plausible explanation.

Steve deftly maneuvered the truck down the narrow driveway, frowning as they pulled up to the house. Empty and quiet, it looked as if no one had even set foot near it recently. He parked haphazardly and stepped from the truck as Chin did the same on the passenger side. Still frowning, Steve pulled his semi-automatic rifle from the truck and quietly pushed the door closed. Over the hood, he looked at Chin, brow furrowed. "We'll both go in the front."

Chin nodded and fell into step behind Steve, shotgun pointed at the ground, as the commander jogged up to the front door. Chin placed himself on one side of the door as Steve tested the knob. When it turned under his hand, he glanced at Chin an d nodded once – then pushed the door open after Chin echoed the nod.

Chin brought his weapon up and moved diagonally across Steve. Fading light streamed in through the windows; both Chin and Steve wanted to get this taken care of and get Danny and Kono home before the night set in. Dust coated what little furniture was left in the front sitting room and it looked as if nothing had been disturbed. As Chin moved toward the kitchen, Steve made his way down the hallway to clear the bedrooms and bathrooms.

The sight of the back door brought Chin up short. Weapon still up, he approached what was left of the door, mouth set into a thin, hard line at the sight of the splintered door and the debris strewn across the back landing. Chin pressed a hand against his earpiece. "Steve, kitchen." Upon Steve's acknowledgment, Chin turned away from the evidence of foul play and moved to the door leading to the garage.

Before opening the door, he switched on the light attached to the barrel of his gun, and then swung the door open quickly, letting the barrel of the shotgun lead the way into the garage. Stark light from the torch on his weapon harshly illuminated familiar red sheet metal. Chin let the light dance across the Cruze, then on into the corners of the dusty garage. Scuff marks in the dust spoke to recent movement here. Chin let a soft curse pass his lips.

"Chin?" Steve called from the kitchen.

He left the garage door open as he stepped back into the kitchen, turning off the flashlight in disgust. Steve was staring at the splintered door, his brows drawn together and lips set into a hard line. "Trap," was all he said.

Chin nodded. "Kono's car is in the garage."

The same curse Chin had allowed himself echoed from Steve's lips. For a moment, they both stood there in the dusty, dim kitchen, both sinking into despairing thoughts. Then Steve moved abruptly, running gloved fingers over the edges of the door frame. He settled his open hand against what was left of the door and shook his head.

"Low-level explosive," he said. "Not much more than a flash grenade. Definitely meant to surprise. Most likely did minimal damage."

"It's not the bomb I'm worried about," Chin returned. He had his phone in hand and dialed a familiar number. "I'm calling for CSU up here. We need to process this place."

Steve nodded thoughtfully and pushed through the ruined door. Grass was trampled here, pushed into the ground as if someone had turned abruptly on their heel – and then had fallen. He could almost see it: Kono and Danny may have separated; spurred on by thoughts of Grace in danger, they may have wanted to cover more ground initially and come in from opposite sides of the house. Steve and Chin hadn't, if only because they had been gone into this situation with the idea of a trap firmly emblazoned in their minds. If one had been surprised by the small explosive on the door, the other would have been put into an untenable position. Steve knew full well that neither Danny or Kono would put the other in jeopardy, if one were threatened. Just like he would have done – just like Chin – whoever had remained standing would have willingly disarmed themselves.

Chin came up behind him, gaze falling on the open gate leading to the side yard. "What are you thinking, Steve?"

Steve pointed at the door, half-turning toward the debris in the yard. "They might have split off, front and back. I can't be sure, but either way one of them was definitely surprised by this thing." He motioned toward the trampled grass. "Somebody fought."

Chin frowned, eyeing the grass. "If someone got a gun against Danny's head, Kono would have dropped her weapon."

"Danny would have done the same," Steve said.

Another pause. "The only vehicle here is Kono's" Chin pointed out.

"I saw tracks in the drive," Steve answered. "Maybe CSU can get us something from those." He rubbed his cheek, frowning thoughtfully. "There's are traffic cameras on the main road. Whichever way they turned down there, it's on camera. Could be the same vehicle that transported that barrel."

"I'll focus on vehicles big enough to carry that. Most likely enclosed, if they're using it to transport a couple of cops. A van or similar," Chin said. The shotgun shifted in his hands and he worried his lip. "I don't think Danny or Kono ever got into this place."

Steve nodded. "Aside from the back door and the garage, this place is undisturbed. Someone was waiting for them." He tapped his fingers against the butt of his rifle, gaze far away. That he was worried was clearly broadcasted: the lines of his body were taut, hands fairly trembling in a need to move, to leap into action somehow and somewhere. His gaze was hard, his mouth pressed thin, jaw tight. Chin echoed his stance, feet shoulder-width apart, hands tightly holding the shotgun.

And then suddenly Steve was moving, striding toward the open gate. Chin followed close behind. "Chin, what about the tip called in?"

"About Grace?" Chin asked, nearly jogging to keep up with Steve's long strides. "What about it?"

"What about a vocal match? Can we run down whoever made that call using that recording?"

"Maybe." Chin's voice was uncertain, his brow furrowed. "Unless we had something to compare it to already, it may not do us much good."

"But we have some vocal samples in the system, don't we?" Steve glanced at Chin. "It's a longshot, but if we've picked up any of these guys before, they'd be in the system. We've done enough drug busts, picked up enough dealers and muscle that it's possible these guys are already in our system."

"It might be enough," Chin said, voice gaining confidence. "It just might be."

Steve turned to face Chin. In the distance, they could both hear sirens cutting through the dimming light. "If we get one name, Chin – one goddamned name – we can run him down."

* * *

><p>"I don't think they liked my answers." Danny's voice was rasping, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall. Blood collected at the corner of his mouth, oozed over a split lip, and streamed down his chin to drip onto his collar. He sat slumped to the right, favoring the shoulder on his cuffed side. Despite the raw bleeding wounds there, Kono's fingers wrapped about his wrist. As he had done for her earlier, her fingers settled against his pulse point, carefully cataloging a somewhat fast but steady beat.<p>

"Well," Kono said, trying to sound wry but falling far short, "you were a bit of a smartass about that whole thing."

Danny rolled his head toward her, one eye fluttering to half-mast as he answered. "Whose side are you on?"

She snorted at that, then carefully moved to her knees, taking care not to jostle their joined wrists. It took some deliberate movement, but she knelt at his side, her cuffed arm pulled across her body and her free hand cupping Danny's chin. He raised a brow at her.

"Humor me," she said. Her fingers danced over his jaw, then into his hair behind his ear. (He'd taken a hit there; it had him dancing on the edge of unconsciousness for a few terrible moments.) "That's a bump."

"So I noticed," he answered. "I'm fine."

She snorted again. "Liar." Her hand skimmed over his side. "Ribs?"

"Not broken." He sighed as she pulled her hand back. "I'm good."

Kono sat back on her heels. Her fingers beat a staccato against her knee. "Not for long. They'll be back soon." As Danny finally opened both eyes, she looked at the pipe that ran the height of the wall. "Do you think we could..." She rattled the cuffs lightly.

Danny followed her gaze. "It's been pretty sturdy so far." But he grunted, getting to his knees. He curled over sore ribs, took a few deep breaths, and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Kono moved right along with him, her hand never falling from his wrist. He raised a brow at her, taking in the scrapes on her forearms and hands, the bruises blossoming on her collar and jaw. She had fought wickedly to try to protect him, which had Danny's heart both swelling in gratitude and pride – and breaking into a million sharp pieces, that she had been put into such a position. "I'm not falling apart, Kono."

Her grin was lopsided. "Just returning the favor."

His lips quirked and he turned his attention to the pipe. "We've been putting a lot of pressure on this thing. If there's a weak spot, we've probably hit it pretty hard already."

Kono nodded and finally let go of Danny's wrist to run her hands over the pipe. The men had left them alone only a handful of minutes ago; neither were under the illusion that they had a good amount of time to work within here. Above their heads, they heard stomping footsteps and both looked upward abruptly as voices were raised. "Not much time," Danny whispered urgently.

If they came back down into the basement with a temper...

Well, that wasn't something either of them wanted to think about.

"Danny." Kono's voice was just as urgent, underpinned by a thread of genuine excitement. Her hand was just above her head. "There's a crack in the pipe."

He moved around to her side and his grin, for all that it was predatory, was finally genuine. He tested the pipe, blowing out a relieved sigh when the thin metal gave at the crack. He glanced at Kono, who nodded, eyes shining with confidence. One good hit and maybe they could at least maneuver a bit. That's all they needed; one good hit to go their way. Maybe it was too much to ask, considering how their luck had gone so far but hell if they were going to just lay down and die down here.

Besides, Danny really needed to get up those steps and out of this house. The walls were starting to do that thing where it felt like they were falling in on him. In fact, he had to close his eyes for a moment, mouth moving – _Grace is safe. Amber's okay. Steve's got this. _

"Danny?" Kono's voice was soft enough that they both hear the footsteps above. Her fingers curled around his. "Hey."

He took a breath and opened his eyes, looking straight at her and nothing else. "I'm good." '

"Like hell," she said. "You know the boss isn't going to let go of this until it's done."

"I'm counting on it." There were raised voices upstairs; Danny couldn't make out the words but the tone certainly gave him a pretty good idea that something wasn't going these guys' way. He glanced upward, wincing a bit. "What do you want to bet they're talking about something Steve did?"

"I'm counting on it," Kono returned, eyes bright and lips curled. Danny wondered if she knew how absolutely predatory she could look. Despite the fight shining in her eyes, her hand on his was gentle. "We're getting out of here. Grace is going to be fine. So is Amber."

Danny returned her steady gaze, finding an anchor there. Kono was rock-solid, always had been. "The, uh. The walls are kinda closing in a bit." It was something of an answer: he was trying so very hard to believe what she said. He had to hang on to that hope. It was all he had down here – but he was also staring into an abyss.

She blinked at him, expression falling into sympathy and concern, before she shrugged one shoulder. "Then it's about time we got out of here."

"You said it, doll."

Footsteps echoed again, this time taking a familiar path to the door at the top of the steps. The door opened, but this time it wasn't sunlight that streamed through the dim light. Nearly a whole day had passed; Danny frowned at the realization.

No, he wasn't going to spend another night in uncertainty. Kono's hand tightened around his for a single moment. He brought their hands down and away from the crack in the pipe; no sense drawing attention to it until they were ready. He caught her eye before turning to face the men coming down the stairs. She nodded once and their hands remained joined.

One good hit.

The guy who reminded Danny of McGarrett – and Steve would probably have a few words to say if Danny ever copped to that – lead the way down the stairs and didn't stop until he was in front of Danny. The beefier man – no less tall but definitely wider and more muscular – didn't hesitate to shove Kono back against the wall. She didn't fight it this time, but her expression promised retribution. Danny squeezed her hand. _Wait_.

A hand fisted in Danny's collar and he was shoved backward, too. His back hit the wall; he tensed, trying to keep his feet gathered under him. If they were going to fight back this time, he needed to be able to find some leverage. Bad enough he was cuffed and trapped against a wall. Leverage was already something he'd have to fight for and this guy wasn't going to make it easy.

The man's forearm came up and pushed against Danny's neck. It had been a tried and true tactic so far and, while uncomfortable, Danny could put up with this all day. He could even handle the talking. A few hits here and there were fine. He could deal with it. It was when Kono started fighting back and taking hits of her own that Danny lost it a little bit. Usually, he could compartmentalize a little better than that, but there were moments when he looked in Kono's direction during all this and he'd see a flash of an old partner, her expression quietly afraid and determined and hopeful.

And all he could see was reliving that horrible moment that Grace Tillwell died with Kono – then finding out that while he watched Kono die, Steve hadn't been able to rescue Amber and his own daughter was long gone, like Matty, dead before he'd been able to even think of saving her.

Those thoughts kept him still as the forearm pushed into his throat, as the man's other hand grabbed his jaw, fingers digging into flesh painfully. "The money," he hissed. "You waltzed into that bar, killed them all, and walked away with eighteen and a half million. Did you think we wouldn't come for it?" His fingers dug in further, then he pulled abruptly away.

Danny worked his jaw. "What money?"

The man's hand palmed his forehead and rocked his head back into the concrete wall. Stars exploded behind Danny's eyes and he went momentarily limp before finding his feet – and his circling thoughts – again. His gaze cut to Kono. She stood against the wall, stoically putting up with Beefy's paws all over her. Where she had been fighting against the hold earlier, she stood still. Waiting. Tense. Fairly trembling in her desire to move. Danny grabbed her hand tightly.

The man pulled his hand back in disgust and it gave Danny just enough room to maneuver. Kono adjusted her grip, her hand curling tightly around Danny's wrist and he spared a thought to be glad she was thinking the same thing that he was. The chain on the cuffs might break but, while this might hurt, his wrist would hold up better under the assault. They moved in tandem, not just simply trying to punch their way free, but shoving off from the wall and putting everything they had behind that one good hit.

Danny's wrist slammed against the pipe, propelled by both Danny's own movement and Kono's shove. He wasn't sure if it was him or the pipe that cracked but something definitely gave. It wasn't until he stumbled forward that he realized that the pipe gave before his wrist did. Good thing, that. Careful not to throw Kono off-balance, Danny balled his left fist and threw a wicked punch toward Not-McGarrett's face. Beside him, Kono used Danny as a bastion, holding tightly to his shoulder while she planted a knee in Beefy's groin – and then an elbow into his temple when he doubled over.

When he dropped, she turned her attention to Not-McGarrett, who was still reeling from Danny's punch to the cheek. Kono went for his knees while Danny hit him again, this time square on the bridge of his nose. He dropped with a grunt, a hand going toward the knee that Kono had slammed her boot into. Danny didn't give him time to think about his knee; as soon as he was in range of his foot, Danny kicked him, heel striking his temple and rendering him unconscious almost immediately.

Danny almost brought himself down with that one, but caught himself as he stumbled forward, his left hand pressing against aching ribs. He glanced at his right wrist, wincing at the welt there as pain made itself known. Worth it, though.

Kono knelt next to Beefy, hands patting through pockets until she found something useful. Grinning up at Danny, she pulled out a phone. Perfect. "They're unarmed," she said. Probably smart; didn't want their prisoners to get their hands on a weapon, after all.

"Out," Danny rasped. "Then call McGarrett and tell him to get his ass over here."

But she was already on it, dialing as they stumbled toward the stairs – and hoping against hope that no one else was up there.

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><p>TBC<p>

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Pneumonia sucks and so does recovering from pneumonia. I'm sorry I've slowed down a bit with posting. That's mostly a by-product of being insanely exhausted after work lately. I hope you're all still enjoying this.<em>


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